So I made this blog and then proceeded to live in fear of it, in my usual fashion. But let's give it a try. What's the worst that can happen? I humiliate myself? That's not really a big deal. In truth there's nothing to worry about. Better to go looking for something and fail to find it than not go looking at all, right? Maybe.

Things are strange right now. Every year things seem to get weirder, and this one's the weirdest so far. I thought some time ago that I'd made a revelation, and I think in some ways I did. I'm not quite the same person (psychologically, emotionally, what have you) I was at the start of the year. Once again I'm playing by different rules.

For a while I actually had a normal sleep schedule. I think getting an appropriate amount of sleep is one of the best things you can do for yourself. That's one of the lessons I've learned, and I hope I will never forget it. Sleep is sanity, pure and simple. At the same time, it's beyond my control. That, too, is something I'm convinced of now. I've generally accepted that I'm not trying hard enough, and certainly (and as is often the case) if I'm not even getting into bed, I'm not trying hard enough. Even when I do get into bed and "try" to sleep only to be kept awake by the mania du jour, I can hold myself accountable in some way, but sleep has become strange lately. Often times I cannot tell if I've actually slept. I've been having this experience of "coming to my senses" in the middle of the night. It's very smooth and sudden, and I can't remember what I was thinking about before it happens. Was I asleep? It doesn't really feel like it. I don't know too much about this stuff, but I think there are stages of sleep. You get deeper into it as time passes. I think what's happening in these cases is I've actually begun to sleep, but I'm waking up before getting to the next stage. Further, the experience of "properly" waking up is worse than ever. I wake up straight into the grip of powerful emotions, the kinds of things I almost never experience in day to day life, and as usual there's a touch of delirium or something. That's probably why they seem so strong. Sometimes I forget things about my life while focusing intently on others, and the screwed up context gives me some overwhelming concern. Once I felt that I'd somehow recovered the ability to want things, a trait that I'd apparently been lacking for most of my adult life, and now that I had it back my mind just raced incoherently. And this all slides into the realm of "was it a dream?", "was it sleep paralysis?". I'm not really sure. In any case I'm in sleep hell again.

I've had some concern over where motivation should come from. As a teenager I had it. As a teenager I was also a crazy person. I think a part of me is still looking for... what? Something that can't coexist with my worldview today. I don't even know which parts are incompatible. It's not like any of it was compatible back then either; I was just fucking nuts.

There was a big sexuality rant I wanted to go on, but it's too hard to articulate. I'm not sure my suspicions are even correct anyway. Suffice to say it's like everything else. Is there a common thread somewhere?

Well, I'm worried about where things are headed. Very worried. I don't know how to put it into words. I feel like a simulacrum of a person, and life is like a prison. It's not even that I'm depressed. In college for instance, I felt so awful that I'm pretty sure people could just sense it when they were in my presence. I remember the first time I walked into the counseling office, I couldn't have uttered more than two sentences before they were scrambling to find someone to talk to me. I learned afterward that that's not how that place is supposed to work. You're supposed to make an appointment. I'm still not even sure what it was about my demeanor that made them react like that. But where was I? There was a silver lining to that time. When you're in hell, you get to believe that things will go back to normal once you're out. Now I'm (ostensibly) out and the world is more unreal than ever. Something needs to be done I guess. Something even more than what I've been doing. When I've talked to psychologists and such in the past I've always downplayed what was going on. Maybe it's about time I go somewhere and just puke everything onto the table. Can't exactly make anything worse at this point.

I wasn't planning to talk about the past, but I just let my mind wander and that's where it always seems to go. Writing this was probably a good idea. I don't know what I expected, if anything.

And whoa, my dad just walked in on me and asked if I'm okay, and I told him I think I should see someone again. It was that easy. Surreal! (And yikes, I really am so easy to read, aren't I?)